“It's very ridiculous,” he at length remarked, pouring forth at the same time, an unusual volume of smoke, and watching the curling eddies as they rose far above his head—“it's very ridiculous, I say, the captin's order that we sha'nt fire. Look at them ducks—how they seem to know all about it, too!”
“By gosh!” said another, “I've a good notion to fetch my musket, and have a slap into them. Shall I, corporal?”
“Certainly not, Green,” was the answer. “If it was known in the Fort I had permitted any of the party to fire, I should be broke, if I did'nt get picketed for my pains, and none of us would ever get out again.”
“No great harm in that, either,” said the man who had made the novel observation that Rome had not been built in a day.
The corporal looked sharply at the last speaker, as if not fully comprehending his meaning.
“Jackson means no great harm if we never got out again,” interposed Collins, “and I think as he does, for I see no fun in rowing four or five miles to fish, and scarcely getting a sight of one.”
“Well, but Collins, that's not always our luck. I'm sure we've had sport enough before. It must be because the weather's rather cold today, that the fish won't bite.”
“It's of no use his grumbling, Philips,” remarked Corporal Nixon, “we're here, not so much for own sport as on a duty for the garrison. Let me hear no more of this, Collins.”
“Well, corporal that's true enough,” said Green, “but dash me if it isn't temptin' to see them fellows there stealin' upon us, and we lookin' on, and doin' nothin'.”
“What fellows do you mean?” inquired the corporal, suddenly starting to his feet, and looking down the river.